


good men don’t need rules (today is not the day to find out why I have so many)

by Ford_Ye_Fiji



Series: Whumptober 2020 [7]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Creepy The Handler (Umbrella Academy), Five did not have fun commission times, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Number Five | The Boy Has Issues, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, She was creepy even before he was a kid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26962837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ford_Ye_Fiji/pseuds/Ford_Ye_Fiji
Summary: Day 11: DefianceThe Commission hands Five their first test. It’s both easier and harder than it looks.
Series: Whumptober 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947877
Comments: 14
Kudos: 119
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	good men don’t need rules (today is not the day to find out why I have so many)

Five didn't know these people. He didn’t know them and he certainly didn’t  _ trust _ them.  _ Especially _ that woman. Her smile was too smooth and slick, her teeth too sharp with lips red as blood. No, he didn’t trust them in the slightest… But they had given him food- real actual  _ food- _ new clothes, an actual fucking  _ shower- _ he’d even gotten to cut his hair and beard. And now he stood before her, clean and fresh, feeling less like the desperate animal he’d been for over forty years. 

He didn’t trust her. 

But being a person again... fuck... being a  _ person _ again... and they hadn’t said a word of disgust when he’d collapsed at the sight of so many  _ people _ , noisy and bustling. It had been too much,  _ far _ too much. They’d been so patient, they’d even let him get used to it again over the course of a few weeks. Living and breathing, the whole of humanity. He was full of wonder at the sight of them all, so normal and- and  _ alive _ . 

The woman, the Handler, had always been present in the background, crimson lips curled into a pleased smile, teeth blindingly white. Even as they treated him with gentle grace, he knew something was wrong, knew there was another shoe that had to drop. The woman had hired him to make corrections, she’d said, to fix the timeline. 

Now, he knew, was the day he had to come through on that promise, on that contract he had signed back there in the apocalyptic hell that was more his home now than this foreign world full of life. 

Five cleared his throat from where he sat next to her on the park bench, "What do I need to do?" 

The Handler blinked with surprise, peering curiously at him over her sunglasses, "Straight to work?" 

Five grit his teeth, the small knowing smile setting him on edge, his fingers gripped the soft material of his pants, her mere presence agitating him, "Let’s skip the pleasantries." 

She preened, "Right to business then? I like that in a man." He shifted uncomfortably as she continued, "But, the Commission would like to make sure you measure up before we put you into the field. A simple test of your abilities is all." She waved a hand, "You know, just red tape." 

Five swallowed, throat thick with a nervousness he would never admit, "What is it?" 

She shrugged, "I don’t know. I’m not in charge of these things you know. Here is the address. It’s in this city of course. Your goal is to terminate anything in the target area." She smiled, dark eyes glittering, "I’ll be waiting for you there." 

Five took the paper, frowning. It was completely blank and featureless, except for several lines of dark type.  _ 24 Sycamore Court, basement, no witnesses.  _

The Handler stood, standing over him, smiling smoothly, "Best of luck, Number Five." 

She turned, sauntering away and Five frowned after her, something like a warning twisting in his chest. He didn’t like this. 

But what choice did he have? He  _ had _ to save his family, everything else be damned. 

* * *

It was a bar. 

Five pushed open the door, moving in, slow and steady, sitting down at the counter and ordering a tequila. He furtively gazed around the room, catching sight of an adjoining room, a sign pointing towards the bathroom. There were no other noticeable exits so Five knocked back his drink quickly and moved away, weaving through the crowd until he reached the hallway. It split into two, one towards the emergency exit and the bathrooms, the other towards a staircase with a door at the bottom. A very large man towered over him at the top of the stairs, smoke drifting from his cigarette. 

Of course, that didn’t say very much about his height. Five was a very short man. He’d never grown much taller than his thirteen year old self, but he supposed that was probably due to the extreme malnutrition and stress of the end times. 

Five nodded stiffly at the bouncer eyeing him before turning towards the bathrooms. He entered them, sighing at the mirror, wondering who he was. An old man stared back, hair white and thin, eyes weary, wrinkles pulling at the corners of his mouth. A reflection he’d only ever glimpsed in the apocalypse. Sometimes he still felt small and thirteen and impossibly ignorant and stupid. Sometimes, it was all too apparent just how old and how  _ tired _ he was. Who was he anymore? 

Five clenched his jaw. 

It didn’t matter who he was. What mattered was saving his family, the only people who still knew him. What mattered was  _ them _ . 

Five took a breath and vanished. 

He looked up, finding the back of the man guarding the top of the stairs, the door below now in front of him. Five concentrated, pulling upon his powers once again. He appeared in a flash on the other side of the door. No one waited for him and he let out a sign of relief. 

Five moved forward, carefully, quietly. He found another door, voices on the other side. He licked his lips, carefully pushing the door open and peeking inside. 

A group of men, talking, a poker game. 

Easy. 

He counted the bodyguards and then, taking another breath, tore apart the fabric of space and time, forcing reality to obey his command. With very little effort, he slipped through, appearing on the other side. 

There was a shout as he pulled the handgun from the bodyguard, firing at the other men around the room. He managed to shoot all those sitting down before they recovered enough to start firing back. Five vanished again, appearing on the opposite side of the room, gun pressed against a man's head. The other’s shouted and fired. Five let them do the work for him, shooting their comrade as he hid behind him, holding up the body before ducking behind the table. 

He glanced over, taking in their positions, before firing blindly, using his last four shots.

A man shouted, and shit, he’d missed another room, "Get her outta here!" 

_ Shit _ . 

Five jumped, appearing behind the man, wrenching his arm back. The man cried out as he dropped the gun. Five kicked his leg in and he fell, cracking his head against the table.

Five picked up the gun, grimacing from the strain. His back would hurt tomorrow. 

The man whimpered, delirious from his head wound, staring up in horror as Five pointed his own gun at him, "Who- who are you?" 

Five huffed, "I’m just doing my job." 

He fired and the man fell back, floor painted with blood and brain matter. 

Five turned, straightening his suit jacket as he stepped into the next room. He paused before the door, waiting and listening, before shaking his head with a sigh. He called upon his powers again, appearing behind the three men, who stood, waiting for him to emerge, their weapons pointed at the door. 

He scoffed and fired three times. The first dropped, unknowing of what had hit him, the second started with a shout, the third turned, just managing to see his killer before the bullet hit him, squarely between the eyes. 

The sound of clapping made him turn to see her, the Handler, suitcase by her feet, "Oh  _ my _ , Five that was awfully impressive." 

Five grimaced, his distaste clear as he lowered his weapon, "Well? Did I pass?" 

She smirked, "One more door, dear." She moved out of the way, gesturing, "No witnesses, Number Five." 

Five shook his head and pushed open the door. He froze, sucking in his breath at the sight that greeted him. 

A little girl sat clearly terrified and shaking and huddled in the far corner. Her brown hair was ragged and tangled and her wide hazel eyes were filled with tears. She stopped fiddling with the zip ties around her hands as the door opened. 

She stared up at him, realizing he was unfamiliar, hope filling her eyes. 

The Handler purred over his shoulder, "Oh my. I wasn’t expecting this." 

_ No witnesses.  _

Five swallowed. 

He couldn’t- it was- it was just a  _ kid _ . He couldn’t- she was so  _ small _ . As small as Vanya was the year he’d left them all behind. 

_ Vanya _ . 

_ Ben _ . 

Klaus and Diego. 

Luther and Allison. 

The entire fucking  _ world _ . 

Five swallowed, raised his hand, and, after the barest moment of hesitation, fired. 

The girl fell back, dead, face still frozen in incredulous joy and desperate hope. Five turned, jaw working. The Handler pressed a hand to her chest, carefully manicured nails pressed against soft too clean fabric, "Oh my, Number  _ Five _ ..." 

He glared, defiant, hating that he’d done what she had wanted, "Don’t fucking start." 

Five stormed past her, eyes hard. 

The Handler called after him, "Your briefcase awaits you in your hotel room! Expect to be contacted soon!” 

He vanished in a swirl of blue and white, defiant to the very end. 

The Handler grinned. 

Oh  _ yes _ . 

She could tell that she would like the Commission’s newest asset  _ very much. _

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is here: https://ford-ye-fiji.tumblr.com/


End file.
